Setting Sun
by vengeful angel 14
Summary: Susan and Edmund contemplate their exile from Narnia, and all they have lost with it, in the wake of the setting sun.


Setting Sun

The last rays of the setting sun reached towards the young girl standing at the window lighting her luscious brown hair with a golden glow. Her fair skin glittered in the colours of the sun, her gentle eyes sparking with the remnant embers of the dying sun. She looked like a fairytale queen, beautiful, composed and graceful. Her proud head held high, her regal poise distinguished her from the banal hoards of girls her age. She was a sight to behold, a queen among the masses, a queen without a kingdom.

"Susan?"

A voice interrupted her quiet meditation, snapping her from her reverie and she turned to acknowledge the speaker.

"Oh…Edmund." She turned back to look out the window without uttering another word. But then, she never had to. Silence was a language of its own between the two siblings, unaided by the limitations of words.

She felt no need to labour under the task of searching for just the right words that would express her feelings. Edmund was skilled, she knew, in reading languages that required no words. There was nothing she could say that he could not already read in her silence.

He came to stand by her side at the window, his demeanour uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

_'You missed dinner'_ he wished to say. But he didn't care to state the obvious.

_'Is everything alright?'_ he wished to ask. But of course he knew it wasn't and the question was pointless.

_'Is it painful to think that you should never go home again?_' he wished to question. But of course, he knew personally that it was.

'_Will you ever be happy again?'_ he hesitated to ask. He didn't know the answer and he was too afraid to hear the truth.

_'I know your pain. I feel it too.'_ He wished to say. But such words were fickle comfort.

Instead he remained silent as he stood by his sister's side, offering the quiet comfort of a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.

The two former monarchs stood together in the lit window, the fading rays of the sun desperately clinging to them, bathing them in their waning light.

Darkness was on the horizon and they both shivered as they felt its lurking presence in their hearts. They had always been sensitive to the shadowy corners of life and acknowledged the existence of grey areas in life.

They were different from Peter and Lucy, they had always known. While their fairer siblings were brimming with faith and optimism even in the darkest times, Susan and Edmund were more pragmatic and realistic.

They had accepted their nature long ago and were content to protect Peter and Lucy from the darker phases of life instead. Susan was the gentle comfort to Lucy in times of distress, rocking her little sister to sleep and humming lullabies in her ear. She was the determined wall of strength for Peter to rely on when things went wrong and the confidante for his deepest fears.

Similarly, Edmund was the unflappable voice of reason for Peter to listen to in frantic times and the witty joker to make Lucy laugh through her tears. Susan and Edmund had long before decided that their destiny was to safeguard the innocence and brightness of Peter and Lucy's hearts and keep the darkness from tainting the faith they themselves lacked.

Peter and Lucy would not understand. Peter, loyal and faithful Peter, would always be content in the role of protector to his siblings. Though no longer the high king, Peter always commanded respect and loyalty wherever he went. And Lucy, dear sweet Lucy, could always smile and laugh, her faith untarnished even now when there was no hope of return.

But Susan and Edmund were not as lucky. They did not have Lucy's faith nor Peter's unwavering strength. They knew that they would never return to their beloved home and kingdom, never be kings and queens of Narnia again.

"Do you think…" Susan began. "Do you think that Aslan is watching us? That he knows…"

Edmund was silent for a moment, unwilling to give an answer that would only distress his sister but also reluctant to lie.

"I don't know Su. I think so. He must know."

'Then why, why would he abandon us? Does he not see our pain?" Susan cried, tears glistening like golden pearls on her lashes.

"I don't know Susan. I don't know." He murmured his anguish bravely contained but still plainly visible to his observant sister.

_'It hurts so much'_

_'I know. But we'll be alright.'_

_'I hope so.'_

Words were unnecessary. They knew what the other was thinking, feeling; they could feel the other's pain reflected in their eyes.

_'I hope so.' _But that was just it. They were losing hope. Losing their faith. They had both experienced darkness and feared that they might surrender to it.

"I still miss him." Susan whispered and Edmund gasped at the confession. He knew that it was no small feat for Susan to admit to a weakness. She was the gentle determination that had carried them through many a dire straits. She was the anchor that kept them afloat with her soothing words and gentle smile.

But Edmund could hear the unspoken words behind her broken whisper. _'I still love him. I think I will always love him.' _He felt a stab of pain for his sister's plight. While Lucy had regaled Susan and Peter with their adventures aboard the Dawn Treader, Edmund had witnessed the momentary slip of Susan's façade that betrayed her pain at a lover truly lost. Susan knew for certain now that Caspian was well and truly lost to her and the realisation had only cemented her divergence from Narnia.

He longed to embrace her, to wrap an arm around her shoulders to comfort her but knew that the gesture would not be well received. Instead, he remained stoic and silent, for once at a loss for words. He wished to share her pain but did not know how.

"I still have nightmares. About her, I mean. Everytime we come back from Narnia." Edmund said, breathing a sigh of relief after unloading his deepest secret. In Narnia, he knew peace. But in England, he was still the little boy who turned traitor. Susan looked to him, knowing the subject of his nightmares without his divulging a name. It was a subject they had discussed at length away from the ears of their siblings. Jadis, the white witch.

"Oh, Edmund. You should have said something." Even as the words left her lips, she knew they were meaningless. Edmund would not reveal his pain anymore than she could bear to. They were too alike in this regard.

They both watched as the sun sank into the horizon, the tendrils of light clutching at them before being forced to retreat by the darkness now encompassing the king and queen. It was awfully dramatic, Edmund thought, that the setting sun should remind them of their own decent from kings and queens and of the Golden Age of Narnia.

"You will move on, you know." Susan told him. "One day, she will lose her hold over you and you will sleep peacefully again."

"As will you. You will move on too, Susan. Find love again. I know it." Edmund hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. He hoped that his sister would believe him.

"Perhaps." Susan murmured softly. He couldn't tell if she believed him or not.

They were silent again as they gazed into the silent night.

"You won't tell Peter?" He asked softly, his voice that of a pleading schoolboy. Peter needn't worry over his brother's silly nightmares.

"Only if you promise not to tell Lucy." She answered with a benign smile. Let her recall her adventures and stories with a smile. She needn't know the pain they caused.

Edmund grasped her hand in his and squeezed it in solidarity. They shared a smile and hoped for better tomorrow free from pain.

But for now they were surrounded by darkness, their hearts heavy with pain. They had felt unimaginable joy in Narnia but that time was now lost. While all four of them had gained precious experiences in Narnia, Susan and Edmund had also gained unimaginable pain. She had loved and lost and he had tasted the bitterness of betraying his beloved family.

For now their sun had set and it remained to be seen if tomorrow would bring them light again.


End file.
